


Fixation

by JamOnToast



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Oral Sex, Other, gender neutral reader, lots of oral sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:35:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29881914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamOnToast/pseuds/JamOnToast
Summary: A look into the origins and results of Spencer's oral fixation.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Everyone, Spencer Reid/Reader
Kudos: 3





	Fixation

**Author's Note:**

> also posted on my tumblr (pumpkin-stars)

Anyone who knows Spencer Reid knows he can use his mouth for hours without stopping or pausing for breath. Once he gets started on a topic, he can talk about it for days on end, giving every little fact that’s ever been even slightly relevant to the issue at hand.

Unless someone tells him to stop.

He’s not the best at social cues, never has been. Growing up too fast and having a head full of complicated theories and statistics doesn’t really lend itself to knowing when it’s time to be quiet, or when he needs to shut up.

He got better with time.

After one of his first solo-interviews with a victim’s family member went on for two hours and only ended because they rushed out of the room in tears. When Morgan had to explain to his very confused friend that most people don’t like knowing the odds of survival on a missing family member, the number of people murdered per year per state, or a list of the top twenty most painful ways he’d heard of a serial killer doing someone in.

In the last fifteen years, he’d been through a lot - on the job and in his personal life (though a lot of the time things crossed over). He’d found himself talking less, or,  _ rambling _ less, especially after prison, though the events and pastimes he’d managed to hide from his colleagues, friends,  _ family _ , ensured that he still gave his mouth a good work out every now and again.

It had started in about 2007. There was a case involving a community he’d never really involved himself in before, not through lack of interest, but lack of experience and an increasing amount of nerves that painted his skin red at the slightest mention of it.

_ It  _ being sex. Or, especially kinky sex, he supposed.

Fumbling around in a stall in a dive bar’s bathroom, several thousand miles from home, with a random woman who’d approached him looking for  _ something special _ (which he’d later learnt was a bet), wasn’t exactly the best ‘How I Lost My Virginity’ story, which is why he’d allowed Morgan to think he was a virgin for several years after the fact.

That, and his awkward uncomfortable demeanour whenever sex or women were brought up, simply helped him hide his… extracurricular pursuits, when he eventually worked up the courage to be a regular attender.

The first time he’d gone to a… meeting… he’d almost left as soon as he walked through the door. It hadn’t been what he’d expected - though really what  _ had _ he expected?

It didn’t seem like he was in the right place, it looked far to open and… light.

And yes, his expectations had been coloured by an element of prejudice, and he’d been nervous at the thought of looking extremely out of place in some sort of dimly lit sex dungeon surrounded by leather and latex.

His surprise was welcome, however. And his nerves abated when he saw that the people present were more like him than he thought. Men and women, different sizes and shapes, ages and races, some paired up, others in small groups. Yes, most were naked as the day they were born, but there were others who stayed fully clothed, and some only in underwear. There was jazz playing in the background, and whiteboards hanging from every closed door with brief descriptions of what he’d find inside should he open them - though the games which welcomed other… players… generally left the doors open for anyone to look in on.

It was in one of those rooms that he discovered how useful his rambling could be. There was a couple - long term, according to the whiteboard - who had smiled at him through their open door, and welcomed him inside, explaining what they were looking for and what they were planning for the evening.

He’d quietly admitted it was his first time on the scene, his second time actually seeing another person naked, and that he’d probably need help working out what to do, what went where, how to… please them.

They’d closed the door, spent the next four hours teaching him as much as they could about various things, sacrificing their plans to guide him through their world as best they could, each of them leaving the room more pleased than when they’d entered.

Spencer rarely told anyone about that night - he’d certainly never tell his colleagues - but it was the night that he learnt more about himself than anyone had told him before.

Several years later, he found himself at another party. He’d turned down Pasta Night with his friends in order to come, the third Friday in each month marked  _ busy _ in his diary no matter what else was going on (provided he wasn’t on a case).

He greeted some of the regular faces with a smile, heading straight for the empty room at the end of the corridor, filling out the whiteboard quickly before he entered, shedding his clothes and kneeling at the foot of the bed, waiting.

It wasn’t long until someone arrived, offering the usual greeting of “Hello, Doctor” before they positioned themselves on the bed before him, legs either side of his body, arousal already leaking.

War and Peace was good, if it was a woman. Or The Count Of Monte Cristo.

For men, he’d usually turn to Mozart or Beethoven, depending on his mood.

Reciting literature with his tongue and bobbing his head to the intricate rhythms of classical music had earned him notoriety in the community. He’d never given a name, just the title of  _ Doctor _ , letting most people assume he was a professor of some sort at one of the many universities in Virginia.

His relaxed but continuous work was pleasurable for him. His partners never cared what he was saying to them, they listened to him, they… they wanted him to ramble as much as he could, without a care for the topic.

They never stopped him, and he never stopped them. On a good night, he would go for hours on one partner, long fingers pinning their hips down and preventing them from moving anything except their hands in his hair. He’d talk to them, into them, for as long as they could handle it, only stopping when the gasps and moans and cries turned to hoarsely whispered codewords.

He’d move off them, then, make sure they were alright, wipe them down, rinse his mouth with a small gulp of water, ensure they could walk - however slowly - back to the main room, letting the stragglers know he was available for another partner before returning, sinking onto the cushion once more, into the well-defined imprints of his knees. Waiting.

Stories of the mysterious Doctor had travelled around, beyond Virginia. If a case ever got too much and there was an event being held before the flight home, he might consider  _ talking _ his frustration out on anybody willing…

But he was in Virginia now, it was… his time of the month, he supposed. He would talk to whoever came through that door about whatever he wanted to, hold them into the mattress until tears streamed down their cheeks and they croaked out tonight’s safe word -  _ Enterprise. _

He listened intently, as someone stopped outside his door, reading the whiteboard carefully as they decided whether to enter.

_ Doctor. _

_ Oral sex only, cum whenever you please. Overstimulation likely. _

_ Will not stop until you utter ‘Enterprise’. _

He kept his head forward, facing the bed, back to the door, knees already sinking into the purple cushion beneath him, listening as the door opened and closed a moment later.

His partner shed their clothes, making him smile as he listened - they were taking the time to fold them, clearly intending to be beneath him for a while and wanting to ensure there were no unseemly creases in the fabric upon their exit.

“Hello, Doctor.”

He grinned, recognising the voice - a regular. Tonight would be a good night, he knew.

“Hello, Y/N.” He turned his head to watch you near him, “Lie down for me, let me taste you.”

“Yes, Doctor.” You nodded, hastily moving to the bed.

Oh yes. Spencer smiled. No matter how stereotypically submissive giving oral seemed to be, there was only one person in that room giving orders.


End file.
